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sunshine-theseus · 4 months

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Meme Girls | Zecira Mušovic x Reader

Words: 2.7k Summary: doing a video with Zecira leads to a lot of unnecessary angst Warnings: angst, poor early a.m. writing request for - @wosofanfics note: y'all i'm sorry if this sucks. it has been proof read but i'm literally half asleep and it's 1:15am. i hope it's good.

“Welcome back to another episode of Meme Girls.” Laughter breaks out across the room as Zecira tries to introduce the video, tripping over her own tongue.

Aggie and I are sat on bean bags facing each other, Zecira between us. We were supposed to doing a football challenge with some of the other girls for someone’s YouTube channel but whoever was supposed to be joining the goalkeeper here had to pull out. That left us.

“To my- stop laughing! To my right side, Agnes Beever Jones!” I give a small cheer and clap as Aggie throws her hands up in the air, all of us laughing simultaneously. The camera man gives us a dirty look, a sign for us to hurry this up.

“And to my left,” I give her a wink when Zecira turns her head to look at me.

“Y/n, the hotshot, L/n!” I can hear some of the girls outside the door, cheering on as well as they pass by, some even whistling.

“Why does she get a cool nickname? That’s not fair.” Aggie complains, adjusting herself in her beanbag to look at me.

“I’m simply better.” A cheshire grin is thrown her way.

“When Emma tells you training is cancelled because of the rain.” The prompt is arguably quite easy but we both spend some time contemplating which photo suited it best. Aggie holds up a relatively old picture of Fran, clearly walking off the bus for a game, her thumbs are up, and earphones are in.

“Completely chill. A day to relax and have no worries, spend time with friends. Whatever you want.”

“Nah it’s time to celebrate. That call is rare and I’m appreciating every damn second.” I rather aggressively pull my photo from the stack of cards. A picture of me from last season after a UWCL game against Lyon, my shirt clutched in my hands as I knee slide into the corner after scoring the winning goal.

“Wow. You look really good there.” Zecira’s voice is pretty alluring as she compliments me, and I turn a fiery shade of red.

“This isn’t fair. Z is going to pick you because you’re in love or whatever.” The young striker whines.

“You and the fans with those stupid speculations. We’re just best friends.” I avoid looking at Z as I try to jokingly tell Aggie off, her eyes rolling at my denial. What I do miss is the light that dims in Zecira’s eyes as I say it.

“Whatever you say.”

We’re given a few more prompts before the media manager calls time. I end up winning 3-2, Aggie tossing a fit by throwing her cards at me. Her fake childishness is scolded by one of the onlookers, clearly too serious in comparison to us, but we only continue to laugh as we stand from the bean bags. I take hold of Zecira’s hand to help her up as well but pull too hard, the Swede falling forward as I rush to catch her. My hands slip under her shirt as I grab her hips and both of us blush a deep red as I try to apologise, trying to forget the feeling of her skin beneath my hands.

The next few days between Zecira and I are awkward. Between the tripping situation and the comments from Aggie, our relationship had been strained and neither of us wanted to bring it up, so we didn’t talk at all. The things fans had to say under the video didn’t help.

‘Zecira and Y/n are definitely dating right?’

‘Find someone who looks at you the way Z looks at Y/n’

‘New favourite friends to lovers.’

They were funny, sure, but untrue. At least that’s what I told myself whenever I looked at my best friend, dark hair tucked behind her ears while laughing at something Guro said, and I felt jealous. Or when I go to score a goal in training and she dives for the ball, her shirt riding up and the tight muscles of her abdomen flashing briefly, and I can feel my face heat up and my stomach tighten.

And eventually, due to popular demand, I’m back in another video, facing Sam in a ‘Meme Girls Championship’.

“Welcome to the Meme Girls Championship. Today we have the two winners of the previous games, Samantha Kerr and Y/n L/n. Are you ready?” Sam lets out a guttural scream and I simply nod, trying not to freak out about the tingle in my leg where Zecira and my legs touch.

“Here we go. When you make a tackle outside the penalty box, but the other team still get the penalty.” I flick through my cards, searching for the best one, but Sam is ready in no time.

She holds up a picture of Zecira and Ann-Katrin, standing side by side with sour looks on the faces. It’s good enough for a chuckle but I’m certain I can get a better one. I eventually land on a picture of Jessie. She’s dressed in an old training kit, hands covering her face, clearly disappointed in something.

Zecira takes a moment, looking back and forth between the two photos we’re holding up.

“Zecira. You’re in it.” Sam gives her a side eye, hinting at the fact she thinks she should win.

“Wifey Z. You know this is the better one.” The nickname had been a running joke between us for some time, so neither of us think much of it, despite the obvious fact we probably both wished it meant more.

“Mmmm, I have to go with Y/n’s.”

“No! These cards are unfair! I used that last time and you picked Jessie’s one of me breaking my shoulder!”

“Get wrecked Sammy.”

The comments under that video are unexpected. I don’t remember doing anything that would elicit any ‘couple’ comments, yet they were full of them.

‘I think Y/n just accidentally exposed their relationship at 1:17’

‘WIFEY? She knowwws. They’re definitely together, you don’t just call someone your wife.’

So apparently, I did imply we were a couple, but it was from a simple misunderstanding. The issue that comes with that is the inability to deny it. If you deny it, fans assume you’re hiding something, and obviously there was nothing to confirm, so we had to live with it.

Turns out it was hard to live with. Anytime either of us posted, those comments would pop up, asking us to confirm it. At games there were fans shouting it out. Even the girls began speculating whether we’d been secretly hiding a relationship for who knows how long. It was beginning to get tiring, especially when I have feelings for her.

I wanted nothing more to just go up and kiss her and tell her how much I like her, then the comments could be true, and I’d know that. Hopefully it’d also mean I’d get to hold her hand as we walk side by side and kiss her good morning every day. But I was certain she didn’t feel the same, so that was that.

~~~~~

It took a week after the video was posted for things to go back to normal within the team and between Zecira and I. Occasionally Millie or Jess would jokingly ask us ‘how the married life is’, or something along those lines, and we’d all just laugh.

It was a tradition between me and Z, that after a London derby, we’d pick a nice restaurant and go out for dinner. Both of us get dressed up and walk out of the stadium together, sign a few things and go. It started in 2021 and we hadn’t missed a dinner since. So obviously that’s what I prepared for when we had a derby coming up.

I had a new rusty orange, satin dress that I’d brought in preparation for the dinner. Hanging it on the rack in my cubby before I got changed into our warm-up kit always made me a little nervous, aware of the casual outfits that adorned everyone else’s wracks. I didn’t bother looking over at Zecira’s space, expecting her outfit to be hanging like it always was. Perhaps I should have.

The game was tough as always during a derby, and very physical. The likes of Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord made it difficult to stay standing if the ball was at your feet and I knew I was likely to come out with bruises from the start. I must say I didn’t expect the black eye that began swelling after an elbow to the face from Lotte.

By half time I looked a wreck, and Emma was prepared to sub me off if they didn’t let up by 60 minutes. I’d lost count of the number of bruises that had begun developing on my legs and arms, even my torso was sure to be black and blue, and admittedly my eye was somewhat hard to see out of. I was also limping, a studs up tackle from Katie landing on the inside of my right ankle making the tissue rather tender.

“You’re going to look like that blueberry girl from Willy Wonka soon.” Zecira jokes as we make our way back out to the pitch.

“Heh yeah, dinner might be a little awkward for the other people around.” I get a smile back before she makes her way to the goal, and I head to the middle of the field to meet with Erin to do some short drills again.

The game ends in a tie. 2-2 across the board. I gathered more injuries as the game went on but nothing that wasn’t more than superficial, and I was buzzing to sign a few things and take some pictures with the fans before heading back and dressing up for dinner with my best friend.

Then I see them. Zecira is only a few people away from me at the barrier, talking to a guy. The conversation seems very interesting and sweet, nothing more than a footballer meeting a fan. Until they kiss. So, as her best friend, I make my way over. Why had she never mentioned him?

“Hey Z! Who’s this?”

“This is Tom. We’re dating, nothing official yet. He’s going to take me out for dinner tonight.” It’s hard to be upset when you see the smile that spread across her face. Her dimples were showing and there was a sparkle in her eye. But I wasn’t one to just let someone break a tradition after 2 and a half years.

“Tonight? What, after we go to dinner? You know, at the restaurant we’ve been waiting for a table at for months?”

“N- no I mean right after I get changed.”

“We always do tonight Z.” I start to seethe through my teeth.

“Well can’t you go like tomorrow or something?” I understand Tom was trying to help. I can only assume he wasn’t aware about the years long tradition between the girl he’s dating and her best friend. But I could imagine that if we were in a cartoon, steam would be coming out of my ears and my arm would be swinging, getting ready to knock him out in one hit.

“Uhhh, no. No we cannot. Because not only does it take months to get a table, we have to go tonight because it’s tradition. Routine. We’ve never missed a derby dinner once Zecira and like damn I’m going to let us start now. Not for some guy.”

“Common it’s just one. It’s not that big a deal. I’ll make up for it I promise.”

“Make up for it? There’s no making up this dinner. But have fun with Tom. I guess I’ll go get real dressed up, eat portions that are far too small and drink much too expensive wine by myself and be thrown looks all night. See you in training.” As I storm off, I catch glimpses of the remaining crowd that is yet to trickle out and realise perhaps I should have waited.

Now embarrassed as well as angry, I run down the tunnel in desperate search for an empty room. I eventually stumble into one and slam the door closed and lock it. The walls rattle and I hear something fall off one of them, but I find it hard to care as I search for the light switch.

Once I find it, it’s hard for me to hold back all the emotions that have been building up over some time. I rip my boots of and throw them at the door with all my might. I’m surprised the window doesn’t shatter.

“Stupid fucking feelings. Stupid fucking dinner. Stupid fucking Tom. Stupid fucking game.” The list goes on for some time as I cry, broken up every now and then by a scream.

Eventually I slump to the floor in the middle of the room and sob. My chest heaves and I struggle to breathe as I cry into the ground. The bruises and black eye are long forgotten as my lungs struggle to expand, and I begin to panic.

‘This cannot be fucking happening right now no no no.’ a panic attack is the last possible thing I need and I’m in a random room all alone. No one knows where I am. Everyone could have gone home by now.

My head is pounding. Or maybe it’s someone at the door. I’m not sure. I don’t have the energy to figure it out.

‘I hope someone finds me soon’ is probably the last thought I’m aware of having. But then someone’s arms wrap around me. Their perfume is familiar, but I can’t quite place it as they hook an arm beneath my knees and another behind my back. Most of my surroundings are lost, sight blurred and hearing fuzzy as I try to draw in more air, so I don’t know where I am until I feel a mattress beneath me.

I could identify the medical room beds in my sleep, and this was definitely one. After a few minutes of just resting there, my breathing started to slow and I came around. Newly aware of a hand gripping my own, I turn to the person beside me.

“Zecira? What are you doing here? You have dinner with what’s his face.”

“You’re more important. And, what you said on the field… you’re right. I was wrong in breaking tradition for some guy I’m not even really into. It’s- it’s just…” she trails off with a sigh.

“It’s just that, I needed something to take my mind off you.”

“Off me?”

“Yes. Look, after those videos we did on media day, and the one after, I couldn’t fathom the idea of me telling you how I feel and you rejecting me. I like you so much but I know you don’t like me back so I started going on dates. Tom was the only bearable one.”

“Wait wait wait wait. You think I don’t like you? Zecira, there aren’t enough words to express how much I like you. Seeing you with Tom, it, it made me mad about the dinner sure, but I was also jealous. I want to be the one kissing you and taking you on dates, holding your hand, celebrating a win.”

“What?”

“Kiss me you fool.” The angle is poor but despite it, we lean toward each other until our lips are connected.

It becomes quite a hungry kiss, but I pull away before it can get too heated, smiling at the girl in front of me.

“If we get ready and leave now, we could still make that reservation. Make it our first date?”

That’s how we end up hand in hand, waiting to be seated. The satin gown hugs me perfectly and compliments Zecira’s sage green dress.

“I’m really sorry for bursting up on you. Especially on the pitch.”

“I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t. Maybe you should’ve told me in advance but it didn’t warrant that reaction.”

“I should’ve spoken to you about what was going on.”

“Kiss me and we call it even?” her hair falls around our faces as she leans down to kiss me. It’s gentle and sweet and tastes like her vanilla lip gloss. Life feels good when you’re in love with your best friend.

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #wsl #woso fanfics #chelsea fcw #zecira musovic #zecira musovic x reader #cfcw #meme girls

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queen-of-reptiles · 3 months

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𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂

description: in which kirsty smith and her chelsea player girlfriend have to go through several interviews before the London Derby

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kirsty smith x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: cutenesssssssss, talks about previous injuries for the reader!

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y/n just posted on her story

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kirstysmith.11 just posted on her story

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Kirsty hummed lightly as she walked through the corridor leading to the interview room, she opened the door, smiling at her girlfriend who sat happily in her Chelsea shirt.

"There she is." y/n cooed, standing up as she ran at her girlfriend excitedly.

Kirsty chuckled catching the bouncing striker as she launched herself at her, pressing excited pecks to her cheek multiple times. The crew around laughed, finding the sweet nature of the two humorous.

"Hi Baby." Kirsty chuckled. "Can I put you down?" She then asked and y/n squeaked, as if realising she was still wrapped around her lover.

"Oh yeah, course." y/n grinned, unwrapping her legs from Kirsty and being set back on her feet. "Sorry." y/n apologised as Kirsty followed her to their seats.

The two competed in their London Derby tomorrow, Kirsty being a West Ham defender and y/n being a Chelsea striker. The two were a known couple in the WSL and an enjoyed one at that.

"Right, so y/n, of course we have to talk about it. You scored your 161st goal for Chelsea over the weekend. How did that feel?" The interviewer asked and y/n grinned.

"Oh fantastic! I mean Chelsea has been such a big part of my life, with me growing up in the academy and then coming into this team, but there is something so special about getting that number in the net." y/n smiles softly.

"And Kirsty, we saw you at the game of course, having played the day before, how did you feel?" The interviewer continued.

"Just so proud, I mean she isn't called the best striker in England for nothing. But I am still so proud because she's done so well and even though I hate the colour she does look good in Chelsea blue." Kirsty smiles.

y/n lets out a laugh at that, smiling at her lover kindly as she traces her face with her eyes, Kirsty's hand slips into y/n's under the table and her hand squeezes tightly, loving the way y/n squeezes back.

"And of course, your relationship is big among the fans how do you find that?" He asks.

"I mean, I love that they love us and have done for so long, but it can get a little intrusive at times, if they don't see us together the rumours can be so vicious and hurtful." Kirsty admits and y/n nods.

"People love to talk to, when it came out we were together, all they could talk about was the four year age gap and it was so annoying and upsetting." y/n agrees and the interviewer nods.

"And obviously this weekend you are playing against each other, how does that feel? How does it effect the relationship?" The interviewer asks.

"I don't think it does really." y/n hums, looking at her girlfriend who shakes her head in agreement.

"Yeah, like we are loyal to our teams but we would never put us on the line because of football." Kirsty nods.

"Do you think some fans may find that un-loyal?" He continues asking and y/n shrugs.

"They're welcome to. But at the end of the day, football is not forever in our lives, this relationship will be." y/n states and Kirsty's head moves so she can admire her lover.

A soft smile on the blondes face as she watches y/n answer the nest question her eyes filmed with warmth as she makes sure to also pay attention to the questions being asked.

"And Kirsty, do you find it hard to defend against her?" He asks and Kirsty looks back to the camera.

"Yeah, of course I do, she's fantastic." Kirsty says and y/n smiles softly, running her thumb over the skin of Kirsty's hand which is still intertwined with her own.

y/n lets Kirsty let go of her hand, the older blonde now placing it on y/n's thigh, squeezing at it as she continues to talk about how talented her lover is at the game.

"But then again, I know her, I know the way she thinks, the way she sees the game, and I know I can use that to try and help my team stop the little rascal." Kirsty says and y/n laughs.

"And y/n obviously you had tough time of it in 2020, with your ACL then a broken ankle, how good did it feel to get back on the pitch just before the Euros?" The interviewer asks.

"I can't quite describe it honestly." y/n admits, the pain and heartbreak flashing through her quickly as she remembers the months it took.

"Take your time." The interviewer nods kindly.

"Well, to get back after an ACL was fantastic, I knew I had time as I was only 23 when it happened. But then first game back to instantly get a broken ankle, goodness, it was just horrid." y/n admits.

The game had been rough, it was against Arsenal and in the 70th minute while they were 2-1 up, Leah Williamson, her captain of her international team, made a bad tackle and broker her ankle.

"It was worse seeing Leah as well, because I knew she felt so awful and I just wanted to hold her and promise her it was okay, but I was in so much pain." y/n continues.

Leah had almost been in tears, she knew how much y/n meant to the Lionesses and the fact the two had such a close relationship didn't help either.

"Kirsty was fantastic however, I mean, I don't think I would have stepped foot back on the pitch without the support system I had. Chelsea, the girls, and Kirsty." y/n says softly.

Kirsty smiles, squeezing y/n's thigh once more as she leans her other hand down and drags y/n's chair to connect to hers, kissing her forehead lovingly as the interviewer smiles.

"I was lucky really, because I had such history at Chelsea and lucky to have such a good fanbase because I had been in the senior team so long already. But it is something I would never wish or hope for anyone because it is very hard." y/n nods.

"Okay, thank you." The Interviewer nods kindly before sighing. "One last question, what's going to be the score?" He asks.

y/n lets out a light laugh, Kirsty following suit as y/n finds herself grateful for the interviewer's way of lightening up the mood which had become slightly sadder.

"Well, I guess they will have to watch Sunday to find out." y/n grins and the interviewer chuckles.

"I agree with that." He nods before the cameras stop rolling. "Thank you so much for that ladies, I really appreciate it." He tells them as they shake hands.

"Thank you, it was lovely to work with you." Kirsty smiles.

"Yeah, you're lovely, thank you." y/n adds and the man smiles before Kirsty and y/n head over to their bags.

"You okay baby?" Kirsty asks quietly as they put their coats on.

"Yeah, I just forget sometimes that it hurt so bad, you know?" y/n asks and Kirsty smiles kindly.

"I know baby." She promises, pressing a light peck to y/n's lips. "Come on, lets get you home pipsqueak." Kirsty adds as she offers her hand and y/n happily takes it.

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y/n sighed in relief as the whistle blew, her body flopping on the ground as the Chelsea fans cheered for their win around them. The 2-0 win was hard, y/n getting the first goal just before half time and Sam getting the second barley five minutes before the end of the match.

However, West Ham had put up such a good fight, they had kept close and tight to the Chelsea girls and even had some counter attacks which were nearly a problem.

y/n was kept almost silent by her lover during the match, and while she was coming away with a goal and an assist, she felt absolutely knackered from the game her lover had done.

"You okay down there Pip?" Sam asks, standing over her team-mate and friend.

"Yeah, good cheers." y/n nods.

The nickname pip had originated from Sophie Ingle nicknaming her 'pipsqueak', years ago when y/n first joined Chelsea senior, she was only 16 and eventually Sophie started to call her pipsqueak.

The team found the name hilarious and it seemed to stick once they realised the striker wasn't going to grow above her miraculous height of 5ft 1.

Eventually, pipsqueak was shortened to pip to make it easier and quicker to say, and it was usually said more by her team than her actual name.

"Come on up you get." Sam says offering her hand and pulling y/n to her feet. y/n sighs as she nods in thanks to Sam and goes to grab her water bottle, gulping it down and listening to Emma's talk.

Once they are dismissed, two familiar arms wrap around her middle, the familiar claret and blue colour meeting y/n's eyes as she turns around to face her lover.

"Hi baby." y/n hums, the crowds cheering getting louder at the sight of the couple.

"Hi my little superstar." Kirsty smiles pressing a kiss to her forehead which y/n accepts with a happy hum.

"Pip! Pip's girlfriend! You're up for interviews!" Emma's call rings and y/n groans.

"Emma, why can't you use my name?" y/n whines as she walks past her boss.

"I did!" Emma denies and Kirsty laughs as they get to the pitch-side interview and are handed their microphones and separate to their own interviewers.

"y/n congrats on the performance today, a good win or things to work on?" She is asked.

"Thank you. Look every win is a good win really, but definitely things to work on. We were late to all the second balls, we didn't close down quick enough and we missed some really good chances." y/n nods.

"Always looking for ways to improve right?" The interviewer asks.

"Completely. We always do look for ways to get better, because that is how you stay the best and today proves that we have got a lot to work on." y/n nods.

"Even so, a great goal from you. Did you think it was going to go in?" The interviewer asks.

y/n's first goal had been from about 40 yards out, she had recieved it from Sam and while being closed down by Hawa Cissoko decided to just have a go, hammering it into the top left hand side to everyone's shock and awe.

"Not at all." y/n says honestly which causes the interviewer to laugh.

"Well, I appreciate your honesty thank you." The interviewer nods.

"Of course, any other questions?" y/n asks her.

"I think one more." The interviewer nods, eyeline behind her and y/n turns around, microphone dropping on the floor as she looks at her girlfriend on one knee.

Sam is stood next to the interviewer, clearly having tossed Kirsty the ring when y/n wasn't looking and now the teams had crowded around as Kirsty tried to not cry.

"Marry me baby?" Kirsty asks, y/n wiping a few stray tears away.

"Of course Kirsty, it will always be a yes." y/n nods, Kirsty grinning as she jumps up and presses her lips to y/n's tightly, before sliding the ring on her finger as they pull away.

Suddenly both teams jump at them cheering and screaming as the video being recorded becomes a soon viral one at the show of love one simple question caused.

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kirstysmith.11 just posted

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tagged y/n

kirstysmith.11 can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together ! xx

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END

a cute one for a cute woman ! xx

Queenie xo

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wosowrites · 11 months

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Another Kid (Magda and Pernille x young!reader)

warnings: alcoholism, throwing up

a/n: based off this request here

prompt: the reader didn’t grow up in a good family and struggled to ask for help, so pernille and magda make sure she knows she is at home with chelsea

You weren’t super tall, maybe 5,6…5,7 on a good day you liked to say. But man, you were intimidating. You never hurt anyone, but your tackles came in full force, your glares would make a player on the opposite side of the field look down and your handshake was so firm that you would leave the referees shaking their hand in the air to rid themselves of the feeling of your hand squeezing theirs. You were strong. That was no doubt. But maybe you were just waiting for someone… or some people to help break down your walls, and reveal the delicate you.

Your walls had never come down completely, although there had been two occasions where the team thought they had. The first time was on the mark of your first year with Chelsea. The girls had thrown a little party, which honestly was more of an excuse to drink beer, but you were grateful for it. You all gathered at Pernille and Magda’s house, had a cheat night of pizza and beer, played games and had all around fun. You didn’t drink any beer, you never did consume alcohol considering it was the main reason behind your shit childhood. The main reason behind the walls you had put up as well.

So, as Magda did her special party trick (drank a bit too much and got sick), you were the one who ended up having to sit with her in the washroom. Pernille hadn’t come to the party due to the fact that her mother and father were in town, she had apologized but you insisted it was okay, because it was.

That night, you played the role of Pernille. A younger, darker haired Pernille. You let Magda lay on your lap, and you held her hair as she threw up. You brushed your fingers through her hair and dabbed her face with a warm towel. That moment was the closest you had ever gotten to being completely and utterly soft. But then Magda threw up on your lap and you tried to stay calm but you freaked out solid.

Magda remembered nothing the next morning and you did not remind her.

The second time was after winning the 2022 FA cup. You hadn’t cried of joy right away although you could have. Instead, you hugged every single person on the team for over ten seconds each. "Was that an actual hug, y/n/n?" every one of the girls including Emma had said. You had rolled your eyes.

When you got into the changing room, emotions came over you. Your eyes welled with tears as you sat down at your cubby, your head in your hands. Aniek had been the one to accidentally ruin it. "Are you crying?" she asked gently, not meaning to strike a nerve. "No! What the hell?!" you said, standing up quickly and walking into the washroom.

Ever since that day, Magda and Pernille had realized that there was more behind your tears, they noticed that there was more than joy behind your eyes. As everyone on the team hugged their parents and siblings, or face timed them after that game, you sat in a corner on your phone, staring at the apps on your phone.

"She doesn’t have anyone to call, does she?" Pernille said, her arm around Magda’s waist as they watched you sadly. "We’ll be the people she can call then," the swedish woman answered.

It was a promise they had made to themselves and that they upheld every day. They didn’t know what your family situation was, but they did know that they wanted to be your new family.

And they kept that promise every single day. Wether it was holding you tightly but briefly when you had a bad day, or just picking you too be in their group during drills, you were always with P and Magda. You were constantly being caught on camera in the arms of Magda or P, being jokingly carried on and off the pitch like a baby. The denmark native and the swede had a similar behaviour with Niahm and Jessie but with you… they had really claimed you. You were theirs, and everyone knew that.

And sooner than you knew it, a year had passed and it was once again the FA cup final, but against the red side of Manchester this time. Pernille wasn’t starting as she was recently back from injury so you did your pregame routine after warmup. A quick three person handshake and then you hugged them tightly. The kissed one of your temples each and then you stood in a circle, holding the hands of your mothers.

0-0 at half made you feel relieved. Manchester United had easily been the stronger half and you had all been so lucky they hadn’t conceded.

Going into the second half, you had a desire. In a year, you had been named best young player of the year amongst a bunch of other awards, and you were in the race for the golden boot, tied with Rachel Daly. At last years FA cup, you had played 6 minutes and today… today you were on thee starting. You needed to score. A goal at Wembley… what more could you ask for?

Your wish was granted in the 56th minute, a couple minutes after Pernille had been subbed on. Magda sent a long, long ball through the field to find Pernille on the wing. The Scandinavian controlled the ball perfectly and got passed Ona Batlle. Your run was perfect, but you were sprinting to get there. Pernille crossed it in the air and you jumped.

Your head hit the ball, the ball hit the netting, and then you hit the turf, falling at the feet of Mary Earps who yelled a loud curse word. But you were full of joy. You stood up, screaming at the top of your lungs and running towards Pernille with your arms wide. Magda came and then Jessie, Niahm, Sam, Guro, everyone. You had jumped into Pernilles arms, your legs around her waist. You faced the fans, blowing kisses to the crowd and yelling at the top of your lungs.

It was a family goal.

When the final whistle blew, you fell to your knees and let out a large breath of relief. "You did it!" Pernille and Magda yelled, rushing to you and tackling you into a hug on the pitch.

The celebrations were insane, you lifted the trophy with Magda, you danced on the field, gave your shirt to a young fan, took pictures and danced some more. The difference was that when people went to see or call their families Magda and Pernille stayed with you.

"You played so well today baby," Magda said to you. It was said in a motherly way, a way that made you blush and look down at your lap. "Listen, we’ve never wanted to ask but if you ever want to… i don’t know… talk? Yeah, talk about whatever your family situation is, we are more than here for you. You know that right?"

You fiddled with your fingers, not looking at the blondes on either side of you. "Yeah, I know," you answered half heartedly.

"Y/n…" Pernille said gently. "Not to be… dramatic or whatever but I’ve been told that before, okay? And it wasn’t true," you said, standing up from the bench you were on. A few heads turned but you didn’t want to make a scene so you sat back down quickly. You hung your head and then inhaled and exhaled heavily.

"My mother got pregnant with me when she was 18. My dad just freaked out and left, I’ve never met him and he’s never shown any desire to want to meet me, even though he knows who I am. My mother got deep, deep into drugs and alcohol when I was 5. By the time I was 6 I was walking 30 minutes to get to school by myself, and- and cooking and I would animal sit for all of my neighbours with pets just to try and help my mother out a little. I started playing football when I was 7 because my best friends dad was the coach and he agreed to let me play on his boys team for free. I played with that team till I was 10 and then when I wanted to switch to competitive I got an anonymous amount of money to put towards keeping on playing football. I had no clue it was from who, and I still don’t. Anyways. I played football with clubs in Ottawa till I was 16 and started playing with the U-17 Canada team as well. You know the story from there. But that’s just the public story. The private story was that from age 10 to 17 my mother was constantly passed out, the house smelled like vomit, it was horrible. And my mother hated me. She thought it was all my fault that she landed in addiction. So when I was 18 and I left for Stanford… I deleted her number and I haven’t talked to her since. That’s the story."

It felt as though you had said that whole rant in one breath. Throughout everything, your eyes stayed fixed on your feet. You had not realized your eyes were filled with tears and you didn’t like it when you realized. Quickly, you used the neck of your shirt to erase any trace of tears. "Y/n/n…" Magda said, lifting your chin and making you look at her, her own eyes glistening with tears. "Don’t cry," you said to her before looking over at Pernille who was keeping herself together a bit more but obviously hurt for you. "Guys! Geez were FA cup champions… again! Let’s focus on that! Okay?"

You said this as you stood up, genuinely truly happy that you had won the cup again. But your "mothers" did not let you off that easily. Pernille and Magda both had the idea of reaching out to grab your jersey and pull you back which ended up in your flying backwards onto Magda’s lap. "Okay I know you guys see yourself as my parents or whatever but you do realize i’m not actually a baby right?" you asked, looking at Magda as you sat on her legs. "Haha," she said. "But while I have you here, please underhand that you are so much more than your past, okay?" Magda said, Pernille nodding along to her girlfriends words. "Okay," you said.

You never really talked about it again, but Magda and P knew, and when the reality that they needed to sign a new contract immediately or choose a club to leave too, (Bayern or OL at the moment) they gave each other one look, and then looked over at Millie who had you slung over her shoulder as Jessie and Niahm watched you, laughing loudly, and that was it. They were staying at Chelsea.

#woso fic #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso #chelsea fcw #pernille harder #magda eriksson #jessie fleming #cfcw

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gurxreiten · 2 months

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#guro reiten #woso #chelsea women #fav #chelsea fc #cfcw

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russos-one · 2 months

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Pookie has been through it

#russos one #Erin Cuthbert #woso #Chelsea #Chelsea Women #Chelsea fc #cfcw

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alexbkrieger13 · 1 year

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#jessie fleming #chelsea fcw #canwnt #canxnt #chelsea women #cfcw

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ao719 · 1 year

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The Pact (Part 1)

This is a submission for @choicesflashfics, using prompt #3: “Bold of you to assume I would say yes to something like that.”

A/N: I saw this thing on insta the other day, which sparked this entire dumb idea that wouldn’t leave, and here we are, lol. Thank you to @burnsoslow for prereading (and chopping)! Please excuse any errors.

Pairing: Liam x OC

Warnings: None but some mild language and innuendos.

Word Count: 2498

Sitting at the bar, Liam casually nursed a scotch with his eyes locked on the petite brunette, who was shamelessly flirting with a handsome stranger beside her. He had seen the man approach her a while ago, asking to buy her a drink, to which she obliged.

He’d now bought her three.

Liam scoffed as he watched the two of them. He already knew exactly how her night was going to end if this continued.

He could tell by the way she threw her head back in a laugh at something the man said.

How her cheeks flushed when he whispered something in her ear.

How she looked up at him through her lashes, giving him a look that Liam had come to know all too well, smiling as her lips wrapped around her cocktail straw.

This woman had become the bane of Liam’s very existence.

•Six Months Earlier•

Liam, Drake, Maxwell, and Rashad took a guys’ trip to the royal family’s private island for Liam’s 21st birthday. They’d been there plenty of times before but had never ventured off to scope out the surrounding islands.

They took a boat to one of the mainlands their first night there, and ambled into a bar.

“This looks like a good spot,” Drake said as they headed to get some drinks.

Signaling for the bartender, they ordered a round of beers. As they waited, the sound of laughter pulled their attention, and they glanced over to see four women; they all turned their attention to them immediately.

“Damn,” Rashad chuckled.

“I think I love this island,” Drake said, eyeing a butterscotch blonde amongst the group.

Maxwell grabbed his beer. “Let’s go say hi.”

Three of the women introduced themselves: Lea, Maia, and Korinna. Liam’s eyes fell on the nameless petite brunette in a strappy black dress. She wore a brilliant smile, and when their friends got to her, he could hear the gentle lilt in her voice when she said her name. Aria. Liam felt an instant attraction to her … she was beautiful.

Then she opened her mouth.

When Drake took it upon himself to try and introduce Liam, who was too preoccupied staring at her to do it himself, that brilliant smile she wore fell. “I know who he is,” Aria bit out.

“Oh, well, shit,” Rashad laughed in surprise, hearing the disdain in her voice.

“Well, you must not because you certainly wouldn’t have that reaction if you did,” Liam quipped with a good-natured grin.

Aria rolled her eyes, turning away from him.

*******

It was the guys’ second to last night before heading back to Cordonia. They had spent the entire trip so far with that group of women they met at the bar the first night because everyone had hit it off so well.

Everyone except Liam and Aria.

Liam didn’t know why, but Aria couldn’t seem to stand him. At first, he thought it might be because he learned that her aunt and uncle were the couple in charge of managing the royal family’s private villa, but he and his family had always had a good relationship with Javier and Mariana. He was at a loss.

When she wasn’t ignoring him entirely, Aria was hurling snarky remarks in Liam’s direction, rolling her eyes, and huffing with annoyance at his mere presence. She was starting to piss him off.

The group sat around a bonfire on the beach outside of the villa on the private island. Lea was perched on Drake’s lap, locked in a heated kiss. Rashad and Maia stood from their seats and ran down toward the water, disappearing into the shadows. Maxwell and Korinna stared at their phones, laughing over photos they had taken together earlier.

Liam and Aria sat across from one another, glaring at each other through the flickering flames of fire.

Aria stood from her seat. “I’m going to get a refill. Anyone need anything?”

Drake and Lea waved her off while Maxwell and Korinna shook their heads no. “I’ll take another beer,” Liam said.

“No one? Ok.” Aria walked away from the fire toward the villa.

Liam tensed his jaw before rising from his chair, following her up the walkway. When she stepped through the open terrace door, he trailed in behind her a moment later. “Ok, seriously, what the hell is your problem?”

Aria whirled around, narrowing her gaze. “What?”

“You don’t even know me and you’ve treated me like shit with your snarky comments and attitude!” Without answering, Aria rolled her eyes and turned away from him. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Because I don’t like you!” Aria said as she turned to him.

“Again, you don’t even know me!”

“It’s not just you! It’s your whole family!”

Liam’s eyes widened. “My fam — what?”

Aria went into a rant, explaining how Liam’s grandfather took the private island they were now on from the people of Arsaros, forcing them to abandon their homes. Those people included her grandparents and her father when he was a young boy.

“That has nothing to do with me,” Liam said when she finished as he stepped in front of her. “You can’t hate me for that.”

“Yes, I can,” Aria stated matter of factly.

“Well, it’s stupid and childish.”

“No, it’s not.”

Liam narrowed his eyes as he leaned closer to her. “Yes, it is.”

Neither was sure who moved first, but in the next moment, his lips were on hers.

Aria’s hand curled around his neck as he backed her against the wall, kissing her roughly. When she raised her leg, Liam instinctively reached down, lifting her and pinning her body with his, drawing a moan from her. He turned a moment later, not breaking the kiss, and carried her toward his bedroom.

****

Twenty minutes later, Liam and Aria stared up at the ceiling, both trying to catch their breath, both wondering what the hell just happened. Liam had no regrets, however. It was good. Really good. And he finally shut her up.

Not for long.

Aria stood from his bed and gathered her clothes, quickly slipping them back on. “Rushing out so soon?” Liam quipped. “Afraid your friends might wonder where you are and what you just did?”

“Shut up.” Liam lifted his head with a laugh as Aria pulled her shirt on; she looked at him as she slid her flip-flops back on. “I still hate you.” With that, she turned and exited his room, and Liam flopped back on his bed with a sigh.

They hooked up again the next night.

Things had definitely changed in the six months since that trip. The eight of them, whether in Delphios or Cordonia, were always together.

Drake and Lea had officially become a couple. Rashad and Maia were somewhere in between a fling and a thing. And Maxwell and Korinna had become the best of friends who sometimes had benefits.

As for Liam and Aria … they were dragged — not against their will as they liked to play off — along. Whenever around one another, they were constantly bickering, slinging mild yet innocent offenses quietly in one another’s direction. She was witty, snarky, and took shots at him and his ego any chance that she got. She didn’t put up with his bullshit, but he didn’t put up with hers either. He was sure to dish everything she gave him right back out and held no qualms about doing so.

And they’d hooked up several more times since that first night, typically after a round of bickering that somehow led to them finally shutting each other up in other ways.

There was something about Aria that Liam couldn’t quite explain; something about the little game they were playing that drew him in. Perhaps it was the chase — or being the one who was chased, depending on the role they were in each visit; there was a constant push and pull from both of them. Maybe it was the way she could have him simultaneously irritated and turned on all in one beat. Or maybe it was the way she saw him as just Liam, not giving enough of a damn about his title to stop her from locking horns with him at every turn. He couldn’t figure it out.

Nonetheless, whether good or bad, Aria Kastellanos drove Liam fucking crazy.

Liam continued to watch Aria flirt with the man. They’d had a few casual hookups and spent more time bickering than anything else. So he knew he had no rhyme, reason, or right to feel any kind of way about watching her with someone else … but he did.

Suddenly, Aria turned her head in his direction. He couldn’t tell if she was glaring or staring, but either way, she knew he was watching. And then she smirked before looking back at the stranger beside her, gently touching his arm.

That little shit is doing it on purpose. Liam subtly nodded; it seemed to be just another one of their games. Two can play.

****

Aria stared up at the tall, attractive man beside her as she sipped her drink. Jason was a forensic accountant and had spent the last hour telling her, in every last agonizing detail, all the very specifics of his job. On any other night, she would have sent him on his way already. But she was well aware that a certain prince had been watching her like a hawk since Jason first approached her and asked to buy her a drink. So she was playing it off as though she may be interested … because why not?

Getting a rise out of Liam had become Aria’s favorite pastime, just as getting under her skin had become his. She wasn’t his biggest fan when they first met six months ago.

As much as it pained her to say … that was no longer the case.

There was something about Liam that she couldn’t explain. He was infuriating yet … sexy. She wanted to strangle and kiss him at the same time; he would never know the latter. And she wasn’t supposed to feel anything for him. He was a Rys after all, a member of a family she had grown up despising from the stories she had been told.

The truth was, he wasn’t half bad. He was nothing like she imagined he would be and neither was his family, who she had met a couple of times.

Again, he would never know that.

Aria slid her eyes from the man over to Liam, then turned her whole head. Instead of seeing him watching her, his attention was now on a busty blonde. He was leaning up against the table top, flashing that charming smile of his as the woman giggled.

And Aria felt her blood slowly start to simmer.

No, she had no right — or reason — to feel any kind of way. She couldn’t stand Liam, so this shouldn’t bother her at all because it meant he was leaving her alone … but it did.

Aria turned her attention back to her drink. What a pig.

****

After spending the remainder of the night slinging scowls in one another’s direction, Liam and Aria both sent the other people they were talking to on their way, alone, when their friends were ready to call it a night.

They stepped out of the bar first, both tipsy, waiting for the others. Both their arms were crossed over their chests with an ample amount of space between them. Liam’s eyes shifted to her, and he scoffed. “You seemed to enjoy yourself tonight.”

Aria snapped her gaze to him. “I did. What’s it to you?”

“It’s nothing to me,” Liam bit back.

“I see you decided not to take your new friend home,” Aria said.

With a slight smirk, Liam looked away from her; he could hear the tiny hint of sarcasm in her tone. “Was someone jealous?”

“Please,” Aria scoffed. “Why the hell would I be jealous?”

“Good question. Maybe because you wanted me to take you home instead.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Aria spat.

Liam rolled his eyes, ticking his jaw. “You’re the one who was flirting with someone else first,” he grumbled under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

Their friends stumbled out of the bar, calling for them as they turned and headed down the sidewalk to make their way back to the marina. The guys stayed at the Grande Peliene Hotel during their visits; they could stay on the private island, but Aria wasn’t a fan of boats. She insisted that staying at the hotel was unnecessary, but her friends — and unbeknownst to her, Liam, once he heard why she didn’t like them — figured it was easier on her than having to travel to the island.

As the two fell behind the others, Liam glanced down at her. “You’re never going to settle down with someone.”

Aria looked up at him, matching his scowl. “Where the hell did that come from? And like you have any room to throw out a statement like that.”

Liam began ticking off a list. “You’re afraid of commitment. You expect way too much. Your standards are much too high—”

“Well, obviously not that high,” Aria quipped, gesturing toward him in reference to their hookups.

“It’s cute of you to try and act like I’m not the best you’ve ever had,” Liam smirked.

“You’re such an arrogant ass,” Aria narrowed her eyes. “Again, don’t flatter yourself. And me settling down is none of your damn business.”

“We could always make a playful wager. I’d find someone to settle down with before you did.”

Aria’s jaw ticked. “Bold of you to assume I would say yes to something like that. I’m only 21. I don’t have to settle down.”

“You wouldn’t say yes because you’d lose,” Liam smirked. “I don’t have a choice of whether or not to eventually settle down. I have to have a Social Season when I’m 25 … where I choose someone to settle down with.”

Aria looked up at him, masking her surprise with a look of indifference. “Oh, so you were trying to cheat,” she chided. “Sounds about right. And if that’s the case, shouldn’t you be looking for a pompous princess with a stick up her ass to stroke your ego instead of scoping out women in a bar? Because I promise you’re not gonna find Cinderella in there, princey.”

Liam turned, walking backward in front of her with a drunken grin. “Instead of a wager, we could make it even more interesting …” Aria furrowed her brows in question. “Let’s say … if at 25, if we’re both single … I’ll skip my season and you and I will get married. Settle down with each other.”

A bark of laughter exploded out of Aria. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.” She stared up at Liam, who was smirking with his brow arched in a challenge and his hand extended, not once taking his eyes off of her. She gripped his hand and shook it. “Deal.”

***************************************

This is an au to my Hopeless Hearts series.

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nottaysreputation · 6 months

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emily heaslip this game

#alex greenwood #barclays wsl #mcwfc #cfcw #woso

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pernillecfcw · 2 days

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It’s so lovely to see how happy everyone is for Maika and Kadeisha 💙🥹

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sunshine-theseus · 3 months

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El Viaje | Sam Kerr x Reader

Words: 2.3k Summary: Sam’s done her ACL and the journey proves to be tough

“Sam? It’s 12:30 in the morning, what’s wrong?” my voice is groggy and hoarse as I pick up the phone.

Nothing is said in reply but a small shuttering gasp trickles through the speaker. I was very familiar with that sound. The one of Sam trying not to cry. It alarms me, so I scurry to sit up against the hotel headboard and turn on the lamp, as if it will make me concentrate better on the conversation.

“Chicka? What happened? Shouldn’t you be in training?” the Chelsea team had travelled to Morocco for some hot weather training, leaving them only 1 hour ahead of London but 9 hours behind Brisbane, so the timing was odd.

“I-” she chokes on her words and my heart clenches, as if I could feel whatever pain and sadness she was feeling.

“I won’t be going back to training. Not for a while.” my fiancé’s usual candour isn’t anywhere to be seen as she drags out the admission.

“Sam what are you going on about?”

Another one of those almost silent cries escapes her mouth.

“Sam please telling me what the fuck is going on or I’ll call Emma.” I grow even more worried as I flick through all the possibilities of what could have happened in my mind.

“Can we facetime? I want to see your face, it’ll make me feel better.” I’m requesting the facetime call before she can even finish, and it takes no time at all for me to be met with her face.

Her solemn, tear stained, lip quivering face. I nearly start crying just looking at her. I’ve only seen her look so defeated a small number of times, but it never gets easier. I desperately want to magically transport to Morocco and just hold her.

“Oh Sam, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I did my ACL.” The words don’t process in my head for a moment. She can’t possibly have said what I think she said.

“What?” it’s a whisper of disbelief but her face shows me everything I need to know. I feel sick as I stare into her eyes. Eyes that are usually so full of light and joy, dark and sullen in pain.

“I’m flying to Morocco. Next flight out.”

“No, we leave the day after tomorrow, it’d be a waste.”

“Sam-”

“You’re spending time with Sharn and Tameka, I’ll be okay.” The mention of my best friend and our Matildas teammate nearly makes me want to laugh.

“I’ve been here for 5 days; I went to their game last night, they’ll understand. Sharn’s coming to England in a couple months anyway. Say the word and I’ll fly out, whenever you want.” I can see the fight on her face.

“Please fly home, to England. I need you.” Tears well up in her eyes and I can feel them fighting on my waterline as well.

“Of course chicka.”

My flight gets in an hour before the team’s is supposed to. I sit in the secluded hallway I know they’ll eventually make their way down, leg bouncing non-stop and hands sweating. I’ve seen Sam injured, I’ve nursed her back to health, I’ve done everything you can imagine, but an ACL is different. Worse in every way.

Soon I begin to hear the chatter and footsteps often associated with the Chelsea team and rapidly stand up to greet them. Emma is the first one around the corner, closely followed by Jessie and Zećira. Each of them greet me and pass on a sorrowful smile before continuing down the hall.

It takes a little longer for Sam to make her way around, surrounded by Millie, Guro, and Erin; all of them are laughing and smiling at something Erin said. It takes me a few seconds but I’m taking off down the hall to meet the group who don’t notice me until I’m right in front of them. Where I usually would pick Sam up and spin her around, I have to stop myself, the crutches serving as a reminder to why I’m back early.

“Chickadee!” she smiles at me with that beautiful, joyful smile I’m used to, and I can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to both her cheeks. Eventually she presses her own lips to mine, clearly sick of waiting.

“How’re you feeling?” Sam rolls her eyes, knowing I’m going to start fussing over her, and the girls around us laugh.

“I’m good. Millie’s been nursing me.” The friendly giant blonde grins proudly at us at the comment.

“Good, but now you have an actual nurse to look after you.” I grab Sam’s bag that Erin has a hold of, and the backpack that’s in Guro’s hand.

When we get home, I heave both lots of our bags through the house before cautiously trailing behind Sam who makes her way to our bedroom. She drops down onto the bed and I get nervous at the way her leg bounces as it absorbs the shock. I kneel down to start untying her shoes as she peels off her Chelsea travel jacket.

“I can do it you know?” Sam was ever the stubborn individual, and rarely wanted to accept help.

“Let me look after you.” I press a soft kiss to her injured knee before I continue taking off her shoes and socks.

I grab one of her oversized sweaters and shorts for her to slip into then head into our bathroom, running the warm water into the tub. I light some candles and turn off the lights, knowing she prefers the mellow light in times like these, before I hear her making her way on her crutches. It takes a little adjusting but I eventually help her slip into to sudsy water, then leave her to relax as I order some food for dinner.

Not long after I exit the room, I hear a splash and a groan of frustration, and race to see what’s happened. Sam’s body is still deep beneath the surface of the water but there’s a large puddle that slowly disperses at the base of the tub.

“What happened?” I pull my towel off the rack and begin to clean up the mess.

“I tried to get out.” the defeat is clear on Sam’s face, and it helps dampen the flame of anger that bubbled in my chest.

“Sammy-”

“I can’t do that, I know. I just… I don’t want to rely on you for everything.”

“Darl, I know it’s hard, and it will be hard for the next 9 months, but I’m here for you. I want to help you. You’re not alone.” Gently, I run a hand through her drying hair, occasionally massaging her scalp.

I can see the cogs turning in her head as I wait for an answer. The only thing I get is her leaning over and resting her head on my shoulder. It’s not comfortable for either of us but it’s the gesture that matters.

~~~~~

A few days later Sam has to go in for surgery. I have a shift at the hospital, so I drive her in, and take a goofy photo of her before she gets prepped, before I start my rounds. I find it hard, lacking my usual charm and overly-kind demeaner as I visit Carl, a 63 year old Irish man who came to spend a few years in England after retiring from teaching history in Australia, before going home to Ireland. He doesn’t stop talking. I don’t mind though; his stories never disappoint. He came in for a hip surgery but due to some complications he’s had to stay a little longer, and come in for regular stays every few months.

“You’re worried about something.” He likes to study me as I move around.

“Not when I’ve got you, hey Carl?”

“You’re pouring yourself a cup of tea. You don’t like tea. Which is appalling by the way.” I relax my shoulders and take in a deep breath. He knows me too well.

“It’s my fiancé-”

“Sam! Oh how is she!? I love young love.” A warm and reminiscent smile flitters across his face.

“Yes, well, she tore her ACL during training in Morocco. She has surgery today.”

“Bloody hell the poor thing! She’ll be okay love.” Carl pats my arm in reassurance, and I hate to admit I feel much more at peace.

Around 4 hours into my shift, I get called to take over a new patient for one of the other nurses who had to leave after their surgery. I walk down the fluorescently lit hallways, my shoes squeaking against the linoleum. Sam should just about be finished surgery too.

I pushed open the dark wood door but come to a stop when I see who’s snoring in the bed. My fiancé, ever so peaceful and beautiful, yet still looking so tired. There are band-aids over different points of her knee, barely propped up with a roll of cloth.

I check her vitals, not yet giving her more pain meds, and take a seat beside her. I take her hand in mine, rubbing my thumb back and forth over the dark vein, and admire her. Despite the hospital attire and the ruffled hair that falls out of her hair-tie, she looks so handsome.

I get paged to visit a few other patients before Sam gets the chance to wake up, but by the time I get back, basically the whole Chelsea team is sitting around her room or in the hall.

Jessie’s the one talking Sam when I walk back through the door, vials and food in hand.

“Time for lunch and meds!” I scoot in beside Emma and LJ to have access to her IV after she finishes the food, the girls around us greeting me.

“Chickadee! You’re here.” Sam reaches a hand out for me and puckers her lips but I stand back.

“Nuh uh. Here we’re nurse and patient, not fiancés. Now I need you to eat some food so I can give you your medication.” I can see her desire to fight back on her face, but I know she won’t ignore the orders when I’m actually on the clock.

When she finishes the horrid food, I put clean gloves on and fill the new needle with morphine, then turn back to her. I have to fiddle with the IV for a moment but eventually manage to inject the medicine.

“You might get sleepy; I’ll be back soon to see how you’re doing and adjust the dose if need be, okay? There’s the emergency button if you need me sooner.” I bid her and the team adieu.

~~~~~

I don’t get to take Sam home with me after my shift, instead having to pick her up the next day.

While she’s wheeled out to the car, crutches resting on her lap, I carry her brace and compression bands and whatever else she’s been given. Sam sits across the backseat, making sure to keep her knee elevated, and I make sure to drive as safely as possible.

When we get home, we find ourselves in bed, Sam’s head resting on my chest as I play with her hair, Derry Girls playing on the TV.

“I love you so much, thank you for being my nurse.” A kiss is pressed lightly to my collar bone and I smile.

“I’ll always look after you, my beautiful girl.” She looks up at me with those big chocolate brown eyes and I think I fall in love with her all over again.

I lean down and attach my lips to her’s but as we pull away, she turns serious.

“You owe me a lot of kisses for refusing to kiss me in the hospital.”

“Of course darling.” I simply kiss her again. Anything for my beautiful girl.

~~~~~

“You don’t have to baby me Y/N for fuck sake!” so much for ‘thanks for looking after me’.

“I’m not babying you Sam! I’m making sure you don’t push yourself too far!”

“I can lift things without you hovering over me!”

“You were trying to lift boxes that I can barely lift at full health!” she was really getting on my last nerve.

“I just want you to leave me alone for 5 fucking minutes! God I’m so sick of you!” that makes me pause, pain encapsulates my heart and tears floor my waterline.

My mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to say to that? So I turn around, picking Helen up on my way, and head to our bedroom. The door slams shut behind me, rattling the walls, the artwork threatening to drop and shatter to the floor. Not dissimilar to my heart.

I hear Sam groan but nothing else echoes down the hall for a while. Until I hear a crash. Without a thought I’m opening the door and rushing across the wood floors to find the girl I’m angry at.

All I find is her sitting on the ground, surrounded by piles of wood. She’s untouched.

“Sam…” it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else.

“I just- I wanted to make it myself to apologise. And also to prove myself right.”

“You don’t need to make a whole fucking bookshelf for me. You shouldn’t. Your words hurt, but I don’t want you hurt.” I slowly help her get up, although it’s a struggle.

“I’m really really sorry. I didn’t mean it, that I’m sick of you. I could never be sick of you. You’re too kind.” A kiss is pressed to my cheek.

“And pretty.” Another to my opposite cheek.

“And perfect.” She kisses my lips, love flowing between us as I kiss back.

“I don’t deserve you. You’ve done nothing but take care of me and I’ve been all ‘Oscar the Grouch’ on you.” I lead her over to the couch and pull her against me.

“You could turn into Oscar the Grouch and I’d still love and take care of you. I will find you in every lifetime, and love you endlessly.”

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #woso fanfics #wsl #the matildas x reader #the matildas #chelsea fcw #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #cfcw

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